


Practice Makes Perfect

by KittyBandit



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Baking, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 02:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyBandit/pseuds/KittyBandit
Summary: Allen's not exactly skilled when it comes to baking. Lucky for him, Link is an excellent teacher.





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is for Jellyfishflan! I hope you enjoy it!

“It’s not as hard as it looks, Walker.”

“Says the guy who’s been baking his entire life.” Allen’s lips twitched into a worried frown as he held the piping bag away from the cake.

“You’re thinking about it too much,” Link said, hovering behind Allen closer than necessary, eyes sharp as he watched his lack of progress. “You said you wanted to help decorate the cake. If you’d rather I do it, then hand over the bag.”

“I can do it,” Allen replied, tone sharper than he’d intended. He took a breath and looked back down at the three tiered cake, apprehension heavy in his chest. “I just… need a moment.”

It was Lenalee’s birthday, and since Link was an amazing baker, Allen had roped him in to help bake a cake for the occasion. They’d spent half the morning picking out a recipe, gathering the ingredients, and baking the cake. It had all been a breeze with Link’s guidance, but now that it was time to decorate, Allen found himself at an impasse. Apparently, none of his skills translated into piping work.

“Here,” Link said, taking the bag back from Allen’s trembling hands and moving to the side of the counter. “I’ll show you the technique again.” With a quick swirl of his hand, he practiced on a bit of parchment paper. The frosting turned into a rose shape in a second. If Allen had blinked, he would’ve missed it entirely.

Shaking his head, Allen let out a sigh and brushed back a few strands of hair from his face. “You make it look so easy.”

“It takes practice.” Link moved closer, his chest pressed up against Allen’s back and arms around his body as he grabbed the bag where Allen’s hands held it. Allen flushed, posture stiff at the close proximity. Link, however, remained focused on the task at hand. “Twist the end of the bag like this to keep the frosting from oozing out the back—and hold it gently. If you squeeze too hard, it will come out too fast.”

“Okay,” Allen mumbled back, letting Link work his hands like a doll. He followed his movements carefully, trying to learn the proper technique, but Link’s touch distracted him more than he wanted to admit. Instead of focusing on the frosting, he found his gaze drawn to Link’s warm hands, taking in the tattoos, each crease and scar, every dimple and vein. The frustration oozed from him like melted butter, replaced with a warmth that filled up his insides and left his knees weak.

Without thinking, he tilted his head to the side, closer to Link’s cheek. “What’s that little scar?” Allen pulled one of his hands off the bag to trace the mark he’d referenced, finger smoothing over healed flesh. He almost swore he felt Link shiver.

Link paused, momentarily derailed from his piping lesson. He pursed his lips together, not moving away from Allen’s touch. “Just an old burn.”

“How’d you get it?” Allen asked, voice still innocent and soft.

Repositioning Allen’s hands on the piping bag, he cleared his throat and returned to piping practice roses on the parchment paper. “It happened the first time I tried to spin sugar. Some of it stuck to the back of my hand while I’d been working with it, and it burned me before I could get it off.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Allen replied, following Link’s movements again as they piped another rose. “But delicious.”

“Have you ever had spun sugar?” Link asked, leaning in for a better look at the roses they’d just piped.

Allen shook his head, the tips of his colorless hair brushing against Link’s chin. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

He felt a laugh rumble in Link’s chest. “Allen Walker, bottomless pit, has never had spun sugar? I’m shocked.”

Pouting, Allen squeezed the frosting bag too hard, leaving an unsophisticated blob of pink frosting on the counter. “There are plenty of foods I’ve never tried. It’s not a big deal.”

Link hummed, readjusting Allen’s hands on the bag once more before letting go. He took a step back, giving Allen the space to breathe again. “I’ll make some for you, then.”

Allen turned, looking at Link from the corner of his eye. The frosting bag felt heavier in his hands without Link guiding him. “Really?”

“Of course.” He scraped up the frosting they’d practiced with and added it back into the mixing bowl. “It’s a pain to make, but that just makes it taste all the better.”

With a smile, Allen moved back to the cake, readying the piping bag. “The next time you make it, I can help you.”

Leaning against the counter, Link watched as Allen attempted his first flower on the side of the cake. His hands were still wobbly, but the frosting passed as a rose well enough. “You want to learn to spin sugar?”

Allen piped his second rose, cleaner than the first, and smiled back at Link. “Only if it’s with you.” He caught the flush of Link’s cheeks at the confession and watched him turn his head to clear his throat, breaking eye contact.

“I would, uh—” Link began, struggling to find his words. He fiddled with the unused frosting, scraping the sides of the bowl clean. “I would like that.”

Allen’s smile grew wider at Link’s acceptance. “Me, too.” There was a beat, a soft silence between them. He parted his lips to speak, to say something that had been floating in the back of his mind for a while, when a slip of his wrist left him gasping in shock. “Oh, no. Link—help!” He’d been so distracted that he’d flubbed the last rosette he’d piped, turning it into a grotesque blob instead of an elegant flower.

Link sighed, but a hint of a smile still lingered on his lips. “Walker, you need to pay attention when you’re decorating.”

“Sorry.”

Without batting an eye, Link scraped the blob from the cake, leaving the rest of the roses intact. “It’s all right. It’s only frosting. You can always try again.”

Sighing in relief, Allen relaxed his stiff shoulders. “Thank you, Link. What would I do without you?”

“Spend more of your money at an actual bakery, I’d wager.”


End file.
